


i got chills

by arabybizarre



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Costumes, F/F, Halloween, One Shot, Tumblr Prompt, this is pure fluff tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 03:51:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8085964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arabybizarre/pseuds/arabybizarre
Summary: Nicole Haught isn't a fan of Halloween. She's also not a fan of saying no to Waverly Earp.
Tumblr prompt: Halloween.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I finally got around to watching Wynonna Earp, and have become instant Wayhaught trash. Such trash, in fact, that I actually wrote a one-shot that is 100% fluff (so unusual for me). This one is based on a tumblr prompt.

Nicole Haught had never been fond of Halloween. Growing up, her mother, being of little creative ability, had limited her costume fantasies to Kmart clearance and secondhand bins. A self-respecting kid could only be an off-brand Power Ranger (pink, nonetheless, though Nicole fought her mother for the red every year) so many times before it lost all luster.

However, such misgivings were difficult to explain to Waverly Earp. Particularly when she was giving her girlfriend _that_ look—long lashes fluttering hopefully over doe-eyes, lips quirked into an excited smile. Nicole almost broke right there.

Almost.

“Halloween is a huge deal. You know that, right?”

“Is it though?” Nicole’s smile was equal parts amusement and skepticism as she cleared away the remains of their dinner. It dawned on her, as she picked up the empty wine bottle from the table, that Waverly had liquored her with intent.

“Well, I mean, it is my third favorite holiday.” Waverly cleared their glasses from the table for her, setting them in the sink and hopping up onto the counter. “Can you guess what the first two are?”

“President’s Day, obviously.” Waverly rolled her eyes. “Followed closely by Boxing Day.”

“Thanksgiving and Christmas.” Nicole _did_ know that. Her girlfriend smirked. “Smartass.”

Cheeks dimpling, the officer set the dishes aside, stepping between Waverly’s legs. She clutched her hips, rubbing gentle circles. “You like my smart ass.”

Waverly leaned in to press a languid kiss to her lips. A _tease._ She pulled away suddenly. “Yes, and I’d like it even better in costume.”

Nicole sighed, grin still firmly affixed. The wine wasn’t doing much to sway her on this argument; but still, it left her warm and wanting. “I haven’t worn a costume since I was like eleven, Waves.”

“Eleven? What kind of deprived childhood did you have?”

Nicole shrugged. “Just terrible. I was practically feral.”

Waverly smirked again, biting back a laugh. She wrapped her arms lazily behind the redhead’s neck. “Well, I’ll have you know, that I am the master of Halloween costumes.”

“Are you now?” Nicole leaned forward to kiss her lips, her cheek, her nose. Waverly liked that, she knew—was easily distracted by such attention.

“Mhm.” She sighed. “And the Shorty’s Halloween party is going to be huge this year. Best costume contest ever.”

“Sounds fun,” Nicole conceded, trailing lips across her jaw, down her neck.

“It _will_ be, I promise,” Waverly groaned, tipping her head back. Before Nicole could move any lower, before she could _lose_ , she threaded her fingers through soft, red hair and gently guided the officer’s gaze up to meet her own. “Please?” she implored, offering an irresistible smile.

Nicole stared into her eyes, pupils dilated, yet still soft as ever. She could only smile, heart leaping against her will. “For you… because you asked so nicely.”

Waverly, at least, made it worth her while.  


* * *

 

Deciding on a costume of her own was difficult enough, and coming up with a couple’s costume was near impossible. But Waverly was happy to take control, and Nicole was relieved to let her. It made her slightly nervous that her girlfriend wouldn’t tell her _what_ she would actually be wearing ( _“The surprise is part of the fun”_ she’d been promised), but she trusted Waverly’s judgment when it came to revenants, so she figured she could trust her now.

Still, she felt somewhat hesitant when she arrived home from work the Friday of the party to find her costume—accessories, makeup, and all—laid out on her bed with a note from Waverly, offering instruction.

The ensemble was simple enough: a black sleeveless shirt; black skinny jeans; and her favorite pair of leather ankle boots. All of this was accompanied by a tube of red lipstick and a carton of candy cigarettes.

_Shorty’s at 7. Leave your hair down. Bring your game face._ _See you soon, Haught Stuff._

Nicole couldn’t help but grin.

In spite of what niggling nerves lingered in anticipation of the party, she felt herself growing more excited as she prepared. When she finally tried on her own costume, she was pleased with how flattering the ensemble looked on her. She could only fantasize about what equally (or even more) flattering outfit Waverly might show up in.

This thought in particular caused a far more pleasant anxiety to well within her. She’d never really felt comfortable in costume before, but she’d be more than comfortable ogling her girlfriend.

She arrived at Shorty’s promptly at seven, with the bar already packed, laughter erupting from all corners. The floor had been cleared to make way for dancing, and the speakers blared, fog billowing out from the machine placed at its edge. Nicole scanned the room, searching for her girlfriend. She may not know what outfit she’d be wearing, but she was sure she could spot her anywhere—her shape, her sway, her very presence—there was a sort of magnetism held in her that Nicole could never seem to resist.

Unable to spot Waverly, she walked distractedly into a fake cobweb, muttering a curse as she pulled it from her hair. Just as her earlier nerves began to return, she felt someone grab her from behind.

“Boo!” Nicole jumped, turning on her heel to find Wynonna, glass of whiskey in hand, laughing at her spooked expression. “A little jumpy, Officer?” The elder Earp sister grinned, tipsy and mischievous.   

“Just caught me off guard,” she insisted, shoving Wynonna playfully. “Wave here yet?”

“Nah. It’s still too early.”

Nicole’s brow furrowed. “But she told me to meet her at 7.”

“Of course she did,” Wynonna agreed, steering her towards the bar where Dolls and Doc sat, somewhat stiffly. Neither wore a costume (though Doc’s usual attire practically passed for one anyway), nor did they seem willing to acknowledge each other’s presences. They sat stoically, each with a drink in hand, sipping sporadically.

“You know Wave though. She’ll be fashionably late.” Wynonna poured her a finger of whiskey, shoving the glass into her hand. “Just to make you sweat, you know?” The heir winked, and Nicole’s stomach fluttered slightly.

“Her costume that good?”

Wynonna shrugged. “No clue. She wanted it to be a surprise. She’s going to take her time though, so—” She clinked glasses with the officer, smiling. “—bottom’s up.”

Half an hour passed. Two more shots down. Nicole could only watch, amused, as an increasingly rowdy Wynonna attempted to lure Dolls onto the dance floor. He waved her away, embarrassed, and then huffed petulantly when Doc took his place. It was comical—both the ever-passive Dolls failing to feign indifference, and the clueless anachronism that was Doc’s dancing. So entertained was she that Nicole almost missed the leather clad figure strutting dramatically through Shorty’s entrance. It was Dolls’ chuckle and subsequent eye roll that turned her attention to Waverly.

Leather moto jacket. Black off-the-shoulder top. Black leather pants. And finally, bright red pumps. Nicole’s mouth gaped open slightly at the sight, her own costume making sense a beat later, once her brain had time to catch up. _Grease._

“Hey! It’s Sandra Dee!” Wynonna called from the dancefloor, shoving past other partygoers to make her way back to the bar.

Waverly smirked (a deliciously red smirk), and sauntered towards them, unable to take her eyes off of the officer. Nicole, on the other hand, was momentarily glued to her seat.

When Waverly finally stood before her, all she could mutter was an ineloquent, “Well. Hot damn.”

“Tell me about it,” Waverly grinned, her own gaze raking over Nicole’s outfit, “ _stud.”_

Wynonna, utterly ignored, glanced back and forth between the two of them before wrinkling her nose. “I’m not exactly sure what you’re doing to my sister in your head, Haught, but it’s kind of skeeving me out.”

Nicole nodded, grinning. “It totally should.” Groaning, Wynonna grabbed her whiskey and pulled Dolls away from the pair. After a moment, Nicole gathered enough wits to step forward, tucking an errant strand of carefully curled hair behind Waverly’s ear. She licked her lips, mouth suddenly dry. Waverly was beaming. “So…”

“So…” Waverly echoed, coyly.

Nicole spoke hotly into her ear. “You’re not supposed to be working at any point tonight, are you?”

Waverly shrugged. “I think Gus expects me to _help out._ ”

“Oh.” The officer pulled her in tightly, one arm slung possessively around her waist. Running fingertips over her jaw she whispered, “Do you think you’ll be missed in the next half hour?”

Waverly pulled back, mock-indignant. “ _Only_ a half hour?”

“For now, at least.” It was a promise. No sooner had Nicole nipped her ear than Waverly was tugging her in the direction of their favorite stock room.

(The one that locked from the inside.)  


* * *

 

They were both panting, sweat cooling on their foreheads. Nicole gently brushed her nose against Waverly’s. She glanced down at the lipstick smudged over her girlfriend’s mouth, her neck, and smiled.

Waverly smiled, too. “You look awfully happy for someone who hates Halloween.”

“Well, I never said I hate Halloween, did I? I just wasn’t fond of it. _Wasn’t_ —” she reiterated. “Past tense. I like it an awful lot now.”

“And what possibly could have changed your mind?”

Nicole ran her thumb over the lipstick smudged over her pulse-point, planting another kiss in the next breath. Waverly’s eyes fluttered closed. “You know,” Nicole murmured, “I might have forgotten.”

“Really?” Waverly’s giggle turned into a satisfied sigh.

“You should probably remind me.”

 

 


End file.
